“O day most calm, most bright,
The fruit of this, the next world’s bud;
The indorsement of supreme delight,
Writ by a Friend and with his blood;
The couch of time; care’s balm and bay;
The week were dark, but for thy light:
Thy torch doth show the way.”
George Herbert.

A very pleasant room at the Julien House afforded a welcome retreat on the Sabbath. It was intensely hot; the burning rays of the sun were reflected from the towering bluffs that shield the town from the west wind. A walk of a mile and a half through the main street led them to the Methodist church, where the services were very animating and delightful.

A cordial greeting from the minister, who had known Mrs. Lester in the East, 135was followed by a kind invitation to the parsonage, next door to the church. There was a beautiful bunch of flowers on the table, gathered on the prairies the day before. One, the moccasin flower, a large yellow flower, with a sort of pouch like a gigantic calceolaria, Norman had never seen before, and he was very much pleased when a number of them were given to him.

Several churches to which Mrs. Lester went in the afternoon were closed, so she continued her walk to the same church, where she heard a very good sermon from the Presbyterian minister, to whose congregation the use of the Methodist church was given while their own was being repaired.

The street she took on her return home led her nearer to the bluff, up which people were creeping to get some cool air in the oppressive stillness of that summer afternoon. Every door was open, and 136quiet pleasant interiors were revealed to the passer-by; family groups, sea............